


do you permit it?

by que_sera_sera



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (first chapter only) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Les Misérables Fusion, Angst, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Friendship, M/M, Pining, simping, you don't need to know les mis to read this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/que_sera_sera/pseuds/que_sera_sera
Summary: "One might almost say that affinities begin with the letters of the alphabet. In the series O and P are inseparable. You can, at will, pronounce O and P or Orestes and Pylades." - Victor Hugo, Les MiserablesOr, a series of three signs of affection in a Les Miserables universe.
Relationships: Arran | JustVurb & Darryl Noveschosch & Jacob | Zelk, Arran | JustVurb & Jacob | Zelk, Darryl Noveschosch & Arran | JustVurb, Jacob | Zelk & Darryl Noveschosch, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	do you permit it?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sofyzin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sofyzin/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the back room of the Musain, a conversation arises from the wish for impressive pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first, please do not show this to cc's. if you are a cc who saw themselves in the tags: hi! please turn back before reading publicly.
> 
> second, this is about their personas and a theoretical - obviously this can't happen in real life, but you know. if they say they are uncomfortable with these types of fics being written, i will change the characters back to the les mis characters for the first chapter and delete the rest.
> 
> sorry to les mis stans who wanted les mis content, but i'm glad you love les mis.
> 
> this chapter inspired by the hot pants scene in les mis. thank you tumblr dot com. i tried to write like victor hugo, so this might be a bit difficult to read.

"Apollo, the god of the sun," comes a murmur.

The mutterer's name is Darryl, but he is known as Bad amongst his friends. His skin is tanned for as pale as he is, his hair is thin and his eyes, a dull green with a hint of a glimmer, are surrounded by glasses with a frame of metallic wire.

Near him, there is a nearly silent table (or as silent as the table could be, creaky and surrounded by multitudes of people), a sheet of paper, a small easel, and a pen, all of which is announcing that a figure is being sketched. Some flock to the table where he is sat and watch silently as he draws. He pays no attention to them.

Across the room from him, there is an avid discussion going on over a game of dominoes and two glasses of whiskey. The participants are a pale-skinned man with some sort of perpetual sense of worry in his face and a widow's peak longer than the top of his hair and who by his friends is known as Zelk, and a man with a slightly paler skin tone than Zelk, his face instead etched in mischievousness rather than worry, with dark hair that went to his shoulders, known to his friends as Vurb.

"And to you, Zelk, where do you stand in your interaction with the Mademoiselle?" Vurb is saying.

"I do not know; one day she smiles at me and the next she scowls," Zelk returns with a sigh.

"Zelk, if you wish to impress her, buy a good pair of trousers of double-milled cloth at Staub’s. That will help you."

"At what price?" Bad shouts.

Vurb raises his eyebrows. "Zelk, while I do love to hear about your romantic troubles, there is nothing more charming than hearing the skeptic sigh over his Apollo."

"I'd be inclined to agree, except for the fact that it gets quite sappy," Zelk replies, "And we are in quite a lovely game of dominoes."

"If I agree to concede this game to you, we can talk to him?" 

"Of course. What is my prize?"

"Hearing him sigh over the object of his affections."

Zelk rolls his eyes, having them move from looking to above his head to his chair and back up to meet the face of his fellow discourser. "It is only a prize to you."

"But what a prize it is!" Vurb exclaims, already sweeping the dominoes from the table upon which they were playing like they were simply dust from an aged windowsill.

The dominoes are collected in the small velvet pouch from whence they came, and Vurb steps across the room to where Bad is, motioning for Zelk to follow him.

"Your heart seems sad today, my good friend," says Vurb, "What is on your mind?"

"Is it not always?" Bad sighs, referring to his heart, "What is on my mind is always on my mind- what is on my mind is the man who I am sketching- Apollo, god of the sun and lord of prophecy, Apollo, cruel yet kind, Apollo, who afflicts me with a sickness of some sort, Apollo!"

Zelk takes a look to another point in the room, the forefront of it where a man with tawny skin and black hair nearly defying gravity in the way that it swoops is speaking passionately about politics and the political cause of which they will fight for, perhaps it shall be important in the future but for now it is not of the utmost importance to them. He is known as Zak, in the group as Skeppy, but known to Bad as the god Apollo.

"The Apollo you speak of does not seem to respond," Zelk notes.

"And that is my curse!" Bad exclaims, "The curse of the lord who does not listen, why must it have affect me? I listen to the words he says and worship them for their tone; I listen to his sermons blaze like the fire I cannot touch; I listen, I listen, I do naught but listen yet I cannot speak to him and only about them! For now I shall attempt to capture his essence; that shall be enough."

The sketch is partially finished now, the figure is sketched and details are starting to be added, the eyes and their wrinkles, the nose, and the mouth is captured in a passionate speech forever. The gravity-defiant hair is being added as Bad looks between his sketch and the man himself.

"Perhaps if you stepped into his altar instead of worshiping at its entrance, you could become closer to him," advises Vurb, "I do not know if he is quite the god you make him out to be."

Bad turns from his sketch and turns to look at Vurb. "A man would not, could not, make the agony that I am enduring right now. It burns, my friend, it burns, it burns only in a way that the sun god himself could make it. He calls me a fool when I dare speak to him, and of course he is correct! I am but a foolish mortal in love with a god, it is impossible and it is improbable, and I only dare to worship at the base of his shrine because that is where my feelings are safest."

The mute, Mega, turns around to stare harshly at the three speakers. Putting a finger to his lips, he twists back around to pay attention to Skeppy.

"You may want to stay a bit quiet," Zelk states.

"Could I even attempt to produce a fire that burns and spreads such as he?" asks Bad, now looking at Skeppy.

If one is to be sarcastic or to be realistic, one could say yes. But Zelk and Vurb are in no position to do so, for they are enraptured - the experiment of human thought in front of them is fascinating and tragic to them. 

"A man I know said that he was once charming, and yet capable of being terrible," remarks Vurb.

"I would say that is accurate, except I know that it was myself and I will never know when I am correct," Bad laments, "For one day, he smiled at me and I felt a bouquet bloom in my chest- an impossibility! But there is nothing I can do and I am useless, and I am tired, and I am bored to death, and I am stupid! Let Apollo himself be replaced by the demons, at which case I know that I can sin."

"My faithful friend, I do believe he is nearing the end of his speech," Zelk announces in a quieter voice which was not quite a whisper but not quite not a whisper either. 

"And to that end," Skeppy enunciates, "To that end, there is nothing better than to be free."

Claps echo throughout the room, including those of Bad's, Zelk's and Vurb's: the bit of the speech that they just heard was moving and incredible, pricking like the tears brought by such a force like Skeppy.

"The price," says Vurb, "Is not too terrible for pants of those construction. They are only about ten ecus worth, I would suggest going to Staub's and getting fitted."

"I cannot thank you enough," Bad replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to user Sofyzin on ao3 for donating to bad and shoutout to bad for having taste and saying his favorite musical is les mis. i have so much brainrot right now. (https://twitter.com/sofyzin1/status/1337858034878570496?s=21 for clip proof!) i didn't think this would be my first skephalo fic, but hey. bad likes the revolutionary twinks what can i say (/lh /j). i'm planning on writing more soon, so stick around!
> 
> thank you so much for reading. please kudos and comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> to those waiting for my les mis l'manburg au, it's coming. it's just taking a while. it will not be as difficult to read as this, i promise you.


End file.
